


More Than Blood

by petalsandguitars



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Bonding, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, In-Canon, in-movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 14:16:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13296618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petalsandguitars/pseuds/petalsandguitars
Summary: When the plan to get back Héctor's photo and send Miguel home is set into motion, the Riveras are driving towards Sunrise Spectacular but Miguel notices that his great-great-grandfather is keeping his distance from the rest of the family, only to find out he's doing that because he doesn't want to make them feel uncomfortable with his presence, Miguel though isn't willing to accept that and sits next to Héctor and lets sincerity drive his words for his great-great-grandpa.





	More Than Blood

**Author's Note:**

> You can find my Tumblr post for this here: https://fedecolombo.tumblr.com/post/172669422277/.
> 
> Trade to the prompt of something with Héctor and Miguel.

And so their plan was set, Frida had trusted Miguel with the story about Héctor and Ernesto to his great surprise and relief and now the Riveras were heading with Frida’s ballet troupe to de la Cruz’s Sunrise Spectacular.

They had just finished pulling up their disguises and they all had mounted on a small van, Papá Julio was driving with Tía Rosita next to him and Tía Victoria next to her, everyone else was in the back.

‘I never thought I’d dress as a woman, and in death on top of that!’ they heard Papá Julio saying from the front.

‘I think this is lovely,’ said Tía Rosita admiring herself in disguise in the van’s mirror.

Papá Julio rolled his eyes at his sister’s statement, ‘You are a woman for goodness’ sake!’ and Tía Victoria added in a flat tone, ‘Please do speak for yourself, Tía Rosita.’

‘Yes, this is so humiliating,’ Oscar confirmed from the back.

‘You took the words out of my mouth,’ Felipe continued.

‘Quiet, you two, or you’re getting the boot,’ Imelda said with authority.

The twins instinctively got closer to each other and shut up as they had been told.

Miguel had been staring at his own disguise, thinking it was ridiculous then he looked around and for a second he thought Héctor wasn’t in the van.

But he was.

Héctor was sitting in the far corner, the farthest possible from everyone else, he had his head bent low and so Miguel couldn’t tell what was going on from where he was.

He took a look at the rest of his family, they all seemed to be deep in thought, even Dante seemed to be acting accordingly to the situation.

Miguel looked back at Héctor and stood up, going all the way to sit next to him.

‘Héctor?’ he said quietly.

‘Hey chamaco,’ Héctor said back without looking up.

‘What’s wrong? What – what are you doing back here?’ Miguel said tentatively.

‘I don’t – I just don’t want to make them uncomfortable,’ he said and it was clear his own words were hurting him.

‘What?!’ Miguel was about to protest but Héctor spoke first, ‘It’s alright, Miguel.’

‘You’re family though,’ Miguel said, his head dropping like his great-great-grandfather’s.

‘Family…’ Héctor repeated, seemingly unaware that he did.

‘Yes, family,’ Miguel said strongly, looking at him again.

Héctor finally looked at him and the sight of him had Miguel feel a pang of pain inside himself.

He had such sorrow in his eyes but he was smiling at him nonetheless.

‘I’m very proud of you, mijo,’ he said.

‘What – why?’ said Miguel.

‘You’re giving up your dream for the sake of your family, and at your age too, that’s no small feat,’ Héctor said, ‘I should have known better, I should have been like you.’

‘But you were me,’ Miguel said gently and when Héctor looked at him puzzled he gave him a smile, ‘we both made a mistake, now I’m trying to set it right. You – you just weren’t given the chance.’

Héctor had to smile, ‘You’re a good kid.’

Miguel paused for a long moment then he smirked, ‘I remember being tossed into a cenote, you know?’

Héctor looked at him as if to say “how could I not?” but Miguel went on.

‘Crazy, right? But there I met my great-great-grandpa and, well,’ Miguel looked down to his knees, still smiling, ‘I got out of that cenote a better kid than when I fell in,’ he looked at Héctor who was gaping at him, ‘thank you, Papá Héctor.’

The last two words resonated in his skull like the crack of thunder, the last time he had been called “Papá” had literally been a lifetime ago and he had never thought nor had dared to hope that he would have been called that again, and by a new member of his family too.

If skeletons could shed tears, Héctor would have been crying at that moment but he was so moved that a tearless sob escaped his lips and he slammed a hand over his mouth, looking away.

His shoulders were shaking and Miguel looked at him sadly, thinking of how much this man had always cared about his family and how unfair his life had been.

Miguel felt a surge of hatred for the man who had taken it all from him, Ernesto de la Cruz, whom he had spent years idolizing, but he would set things right for his family that night, he would have made sure of that.

Miguel took a calming breath and then put his hand on Héctor’s shoulder, ‘It’s alright, Papá Héctor, everything’s alright.’

Héctor inhaled sharply once and the shaking slowly subsided, he turned around so he could see Miguel.

‘You’re a good kid,’ he repeated himself, but he really had no other words.

Miguel smiled and embraced him, he had done so very gently but the gesture had knocked Héctor’s breath away.

He tentatively embraced him back.

‘I’m glad we’re family,’ Miguel said against him.

‘I’m glad we’re family,’ Héctor repeated, holding Miguel a little more tightly to him.

Héctor dreaded the moment when Miguel would have pulled back, he was his grandson and Héctor felt a deep love for him even though they had met that very night, they had been through a lot together and he didn’t feel ready to let go just yet but he slackened the embrace to let Miguel know that he could, if only because he didn’t have the strenght to.

Miguel seemed to feel more than understand what was going on inside Héctor and he tightened the embrace instead of letting go.

Héctor’s face screwed up as if he were crying and he started breathing hard, embracing Miguel more tightly again.

‘Thank you, mijo,’ he whispered.

Miguel smiled and gave him a squeeze with his arms to let him know how he felt and Héctor understood.

Then they realized at the same time that they were “having a moment” while both wearing dresses and wigs and they both started laughing, knowing they were for the same reason, without letting go of each other.

They hadn’t noticed that Imelda’s protective gaze had followed Miguel and had witnessed what had happened.

She was holding a hand to where her heart used to be, feeling an ache and a deep longing for the man who was embracing her grandson, _their_ grandson.

Maybe she was wrong, maybe she could… forgive him.

Before anyone could come to terms with their thoughts or feelings though, the van stopped.

Miguel and Héctor gently pulled back from each other and Héctor put his hand over Miguel’s head, ‘Showtime, chamaco.’


End file.
